


Fortune Has Smiled on Those Who Wake Anew

by elrhiarhodan



Series: Coronach [1]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Amnesiac!Harry, Angst, Bottom Harry, Cheeky-as-Shit-Bottom-Harry, Does that qualify as magical healing cock (or in this case tentacles?), Dubious Consent, Everyone Has Tentacles, Fisting, Getting Stuffed, Grief, Harry Hart is a Little Shit, Implied Merlin/Eggsy, M/M, Memory Recovery Through Sex, Merlin-as-Arthur, Multi, Mystical Tentacle Knight-Spirits, Not Canon-Compliant to The Golden Circle, Pre-Hartwin, Sentient Tentacles, Sex Toys, Size Kink, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Various Statesman Characters, Written for Bottom Harry Fest 2017, badass merlin, merlahad, world-building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 23:39:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12804885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elrhiarhodan/pseuds/elrhiarhodan
Summary: Merlin gets a call from the head of Statesman, Kingsman's sister organization, and heads to Kentucky to retrieve a lost agent.  Merlin is eager to be reunited with Harry Hart and Galahad, who had been thought lost for two long years.Merlin is not the only one looking forward to the reunion.  So is Emrys, Merlin'sother, his ancient, tentacled knight-spirit.  Both Merlin and Emrys know there is just one sure-fire way to awaken the sleeping Galahad and restore Harry's memories.  And it's going to be rather messy.





	Fortune Has Smiled on Those Who Wake Anew

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anarchycox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchycox/gifts).



> Written for [](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/AnarchyCox/profile)[](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/AnarchyCox/)**AnarchyCox** , who'd voted hard for a bottom-Harry fic with tentacled Merlin when I innocently asked fandom's opinion on what I should write on a Friday evening about two weeks ago. I had this idea for something short and smutty, perhaps with Dark Merlin and sweet, innocent, lepidopterist Harry. This is not that story. 
> 
> There are two reasons for this: Firstly, I admire AnarchyCox and the way she weaves the magical and mystical into her stories. I was inspired to do the same, and that means plot. I know that tentacle fic isn't supposed to have plot, it's supposed to be creepy and scary and smutty (hell, I've written tentacle fix which was a thousand words of all kind of wrong). This is none of those things. Yes, it has (1) tentacles, (2) smut, (3) bottom Harry, but honestly - those are not the main attributes of this story. What there is is a whole lot of world building and a kinda-sorta fix-it for The Golden Circle.
> 
> Secondly, my enabler-in-chief, [](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/kyele/profile)[](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/kyele/)**kyele** let me natter on (okay, whine) about a tentacle fic I was writing and she asked some very interesting questions, which lead to all the worldbuilding and a remarkable dearth of actual porn.
> 
> As for the title, it comes from an obscure Jethro Tull song, [Coronach](https://youtu.be/FGyFTFjObaY), which is all about the mystical qualities of that realm called Albion.
> 
>  
> 
> **ETA: May 1, 2017 - I was re-reading this in preparation for some smutty additions to the Coronach 'verse and was soooo embarrassed about all the typos. Hopefully they are fixed now.**

One of the Statesman – the one with the ridiculous hat and a belt buckle the size of a small dinner plate, the one who calls himself Tequila – takes Merlin to an observation room with wall of monitors displaying Harry Hart moving around a padded cell. For a few silent moments, Merlin observes man he'd thought dead for almost two years. .

Harry Hart. _Galahad_.

It's hard to describe what he feels at seeing his friend and lover of nearly thirty years alive and mostly whole. There's happiness, of course. Relief, too. And most of all, there's hunger. There is a part of him – the part that makes him a Kingsman – that writhes in needy anticipation for their reunion.

Merlin exerts some control. _:: We need to go slowly. We don't know what condition Harry's in. Or Galahad, either. ::_

 _Emrys_ , Merlin's _other_ , his Kingsman knight-spirit, responds with joy. _:: Galahad. He is ours. He is our Brother. We will wake him. ::_

When Merlin had watched Valentine shoot Harry, he'd felt the connection between them – the one that Merlin has with every agent – shatter. It had been pulled and twisted and frayed during the fight inside the church, but it had been Valentine's bullet that shattered the damaged link. Right now, Merlin's greatest fear is that while Harry Hart might be alive, but it's all too possible that _Galahad_ is dead.

His _other_ denies that thought. _:: Nooooo. Our brother lives, he sleeps. He will wake when we come to him. GalahadGalahadGalahad. ::_

Merlin tries to calm his _other_ , but it refuses to be silent. He tells it, _:: Patience. We will have him soon enough. ::_

 _:: Soon, yes. ::_

That promise satisfies the _other_ for the moment, but Merlin knows he'll need to get Harry out of here before his knight-spirit stretches the thin threads of Merlin's control and takes command. The outcome could be disastrous. They are both rather desperate.

For the moment, his _other_ returns to its quiescent state and Merlin observes his old friend.

This Harry, in a heather-gray tracksuit and mussed hair, isn't quite the man he'd watch die under an unforgiving Kentucky sky. This Harry shows too much of the softness, the sweetness that had been so characteristic of the young and noble Harry Hart, before it had become encased in a hard protective shell of cynicism and formulaic manners. The man who's muttering to himself about butterflies is more like the very young, very innocent Harry Hart than the cold, professional spy and killer he'd become. 

That _does_ something to Merlin, it pushes at a visceral need in him. To take that innocence, to remake it. Whether or not Harry – in this state – wants to be remade.

 _:: Yes. ::_ Merlin's _other_ most heartily agrees with this sentiment. _:: He will say no to us, he will be frightened. It will be as if he's just been brought before the Well, young and innocent and barely tested. But he will give into us, he will be part of us again. Galahad needs us. We will bring him back to us. Galahad is not lost, Galahad is Kingsman. He is us. ::_

Merlin's control is going to slip soon. He turns to his hosts and says, "I'm taking him with me. Now."

Ginger Ale, the Statesman's quartermaster, doesn't seem too happy about that. "I don't believe that's a good idea. John hasn't left the premises since – "

Merlin cuts her off. "Harry. His name is Harry."

"Harry, then. He's been here for two years; he has never expressed any interest in leaving these quarters. The one time we tried to take him outside, he gave Whiskey a black eye."

Merlin isn't putting up with any arguments. "I'm not giving ye a choice in the matter. Harry Hart is coming home with me. And we're leaving _now_." 

"Let 'im go." The old coot, Champagne, grimaces and swipes a key card over the door lock. "Maybe he'll get better if he's home – surrounded by the familiar."

Merlin still doesn't know how Champ had figured out that Harry is a Kingsman. This is a question he'll explore later, after Harry is home. After Galahad is awakened. 

Merlin nods in thanks. "I appreciate all ye've done for Harry. And for Kingsman. This is a kindness that can never be repaid." Merlin knows he's putting his organization on the hook, tying Kingsman to their American "cousins" for a long time to come. 

"Don't worry, boy. It's not about owing or repaying. A gentleman doesn't keep score." Champ shakes his head and makes a courtly gesture at the now open door. "He's all yours."

 _:: Yes, he's ours. He's all ours. Galahad… ::_ His _other_ is most pleased at this development and Merlin can feel its impatience as he goes into Harry's room. He puts a warning hand over his belly and lets it know, _:: Soon enough. ::_

Harry looks up, his face oddly smooth and unlined; he looks far too youthful for a man past the mid-century mark. It's the innocence – the open curiosity, the lack of natural defenses – that make Merlin's _other_ sing with joy. 

_:: Galahad. Ours. Soon. ::_

"Hello?"

"Hello, Harry."

Harry just blinks. "Is that my name? The nice people here usually call me John, but that has never seemed quite right."

Merlin takes a deep breath and reminds himself that patience is essential. He can't afford to spook Harry.

Yet.

"Because ye'r name is Harry Hart and my name is Merlin. We've known each other for almost thirty years. Ye are my friend." What Merlin doesn't say is, _Ye are my lover._

Harry shakes his head. "I don't remember you."

Merlin smiles. "Ye will."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Coaxing Harry out of his cell takes all of Merlin's patience.

It's not just Harry's own mule-stubborn recalcitrance, but Merlin's _other_ , his knight-spirit, is whispering with ever increasing eagerness, urging him forward with the need for completion. Merlin's hard pressed not to pull off his jacket, rip open his shirt and pants and let it do what it needs to do with Harry to bring Galahad back. 

He hasn't survived this relationship without maintaining control over the knight-spirit. His _other_ can make demands, but it's Merlin who's in charge, and it's only Merlin who can release is, give it voice and freedom. But if Merlin's control slips once he releases the knight-spirit …

Working hard to ignore the seductive pleas of his knight-spirit, Merlin tells Harry, "Either ye come out of this room with me, under your own power, or I'm going to have ye trussed up and carried out like a Christmas goose."

Harry pouts – an oddly attractive look that made the _other_ shimmer in anticipation – and says with disarming and un-Harry-like bluntness, "I don't think like you."

Merlin's quick to retort, "Pity, because we are going to be spending quite a bit of time together. Alone."

Harry licks his lips and ducks his head, blushing like a virgin.

His knight-spirit hums in anticipation.

After that exchange, Harry becomes surprisingly docile about leaving the Statesman facility. It doesn't hurt that his caretakers pack up his books and samples, and even dismantle the bolsters on the walls of his cell – the ones he'd sketched on – and load them into the Kingsman jet. An hour later, they're airborne and Merlin leaves the cockpit controls to his co-pilot, a Kingsman squire, a woman of high rank and utter discretion.

Merlin watches Harry intently; watches him pace the limited confines of the jet, reaching out to touch the polished accoutrements with slightly shaking hands, but rarely ever actually making contact. When Harry does touch something – a glossy lacquered cabinet, a cut crystal decanter - he turns back to Merlin with questions in his eye. _Is this all right, I won't break anything._

Merlin's knight-spirit is losing patience. _:: Why are we waiting? We are alone now. Let us free and we will break him of this foolish ignorance. Let us take him. Let us remake him, return him to who he truly is. Galahad must wake. Harry Hart must remember that he is Galahad. That he is part of us. ::_

Merlin pats his belly. _:: Soon, my dearest. A bit longer. ::_

"Are you ill?" Harry's looking at him. "You keep rubbing your stomach."

Even in this innocent state, Harry is still a keen observer. "I'm fine. You?" Merlin is concerned for Harry. This is going to be traumatic enough for Harry – it wouldn't do for him to be sick.

"I'm good." Harry peers out the window. "I'm sure – if what you say about me is true – that I've flown in an airplane before, but it's really rather strange to be so far from the ground."

"Ye're actually a licensed pilot. Ye have more flight hours than anyone in Kingsman but me." 

Harry looks pleased by that and glances at the cockpit door. 

"And no, ye can't – even if you could remember how to fly. Ye'r piloting days are over."

"Why?" 

Merlin taps his own left eye and Harry laughs and brushes the patch that covers the empty socket. "You know, I actually forgot about that."

Merlin casually takes off his jacket, hanging it up in the coat closet. He takes off his tie, too, rolling it into a neat coil. It's a Kingsman tie, a silk and Kevlar blend with an unbelievable tensile strength. Despite it's strength, Merlin's not going to need it. He can take care of binding Harry into submission without something as prosaic as silk and Kevlar.

Harry's looking at him with shy curiosity. It's a gaze so sweet and innocent that even without the incessant murmuring of his knight-spirit Merlin wants to wreck it, to cover Harry with his body, to stifle his protests, to take that innocence and rebuild Harry into the man he should be.

"Come." Merlin puts the tie with his jacket and holds out his hand.

Harry looks like he wanted to debate the command, but to Merlin's relief, he takes his hand. "Where are we going?"

"Ye'll see, soon enough."

Harry snorts with amusement. "Unless you're planning on throwing me out of this plane, there's really no place we can go."

Merlin doesn't comment, instead pushes on the panel at what looks like the back of the plane. It opens to reveal a surprisingly spacious bedroom. A swift tug on Harry's hand and he's across the threshold. Merlin closes the door behind him and locks it.

Harry looks around the room, at the bed that takes up most of the space, and turns back to Merlin. "Are we going to have sex?"

Merlin blinks and the unexpected question. Even his _other_ grows silent.

"We can." Harry grins. "I like sex."

"Excuse me?" Merlin's knight-spirit hisses in distress. "Who have you had sex with?"

Harry sniffs. "You sound jealous."

"Answer the question." Merlin is ready to turn the plane around and kill everyone in Kentucky. His _other_ hasn't feasted on blood in a very long time.

"Elizabeth, mostly. She likes being on top. And she has the most wonderful toys to fuck me with."

"Elizabeth?" Merlin hadn't met anyone by that name. 

"Oh, the others call her Ginger Ale. Which is a stupid name, but she says she doesn't mind." Harry bites his lip and actually gives Merlin a bit of a flirtatious look. "Sometimes Whiskey liked to come in after Elizabeth finished. She'd open my ass up for him with her toys and then would watch. Tequila liked to do the work himself. He's got nice hands. He fisted me one time, which I really enjoyed. Champ only came to see me once, just a few days before you came. He got me naked, looked at me, and then left."

Merlin is going to kill all of them, slowly, painfully. 

Harry asks, all innocent seductiveness, "So, are we going to have sex? Are you going to fuck me?"

His _other_ pulls back from its maddened anger and Merlin's able to dial back his own rage. There will be time for them to take vengeance against those who've trespassed. "Yes, but it's not going to be what you've done before."

Harry smiles. "Oh, good. I think that new experiences are important. How do you want me?" 

Merlin starts unbuttoning his shirt. "Take off your shoes and socks first, then your jacket."

Harry is obedient, so obedient that Merlin wants to smack him. Harry Hart had been the most stubborn and contrary peacock in Kingsman. 

_:: He will be again. Soon. ::_

Merlin pauses with the shirt and takes off his own shoes and socks, careful not to accidentally release the poisoned blades. That taken care of, he finishes with his shirt and tosses it onto the compact valet stand. His vest follows. He stands there half nude, waiting for Harry to turn his eyes on him. Waiting for Harry to _see_.

Harry does look at him and grins. "You're certainly fit." 

Disappointed with the limited vision evident in Harry's reaction, Merlin commands, "Take off your shirt."

Harry complies, but not without some sass. "A gentleman always says please." 

Merlin's glad to see that some things haven't been forgotten. _"Please_ stand up."

Harry does and Merlin pulls him towards the small window and turns off the cabin lights. Moonlight would be better, but sunlight will work.

 _:: Yes. ::_

Merlin and his knight-spirit have the same thought. They can see Galahad, the physical mark of Harry's _other_ , his own knight-spirit, imprinted on his skin like the faintest of scars, glowing silver in the golden sunlight – a mass of curling lines, as if a cephalopod had imprinted itself on Harry's torso. As Merlin traces the lines with his fingertips, he thinks he can feel Galahad stir.

"What are you doing?" Harry tries to pull away.

"Shhh. Easy, lad. Ye'll be all right." Merlin releases his hold his _other_ , on _Emrys_ , with a warning to be gentle. Two tentacles lift from Merlin's skin and reach for Harry. 

"What the hell?" Harry stares at the long, thin seekers and tries to pull away. 

Merlin's _other_ gives him the strength to hold onto Harry as Harry struggles to avoid the seekers' touch.

"Ye don't recognize yer old friend, Galahad?" Merlin uses that name for the first time since their reunion.

Harry stills. "What are you?"

"We are Kingsman. Just like you. I am called Emrys. The companion within you is Galahad. You have been missed. We want to welcome you home." Merlin's eyes go white as he gives Emrys his voice. The doubled tone echoes through the small cabin.

Harry pants and shakes his head, "No – no – no." He struggles again, becoming a wild beast. "I'm not – " But he doesn't complete the sentence.

"Yes, Galahad, you are. It's time to waken from your slumber. You are healed now, and we need you." The seekers brush against Harry's chest, winding around him, binding him to Merlin. To Emrys.

Merlin slows his breathing and he and Emrys reach _out_ for Galahad. They fall on the bed, a tangle of limbs and tentacles. Merlin cups Harry's face, forces their gazes to lock while other parts of Emrys take care of the practical business of stripping both of them of their remaining attire.

"Listen to my voice and wake, Galahad. It's time to come home, your family is waiting for you." Emrys speaks but all that does is frighten Harry into greater struggles. 

Merlin lets go of another two tentacles – ones that are larger than the delicate seekers – and they take hold of Harry's wrists. He leans into him and says "Relax, Harry. This is for your own good."

"I'm frightened." Harry sounds far too young; the look in his eyes is disturbingly childlike.

Emrys is not troubled by Harry's fear. _"Galahad will protect you. Galahad is part of you, Galahad loves you. Just as we love Galahad. You are part of us. You need this, you need to remember."_ The double voice was but a whisper, yet it filled the room and saturated the very air. _"We have grieved for you, brother. You need to come back to us."_

"I – I don't know what you are talking about. I don't know what you are. I'm not like you." Harry's voice wavers.

It's time for Harry to see what Merlin truly is. 

Merlin levers up and off of Harry, letting him get full view of Emrys, of the _other_ that is the physical manifestation of the ancient Kingsman knight-spirit that Merlin inherited nearly three decades ago. Like Harry, his torso is marked with tentacles, but unlike Harry, those tentacles are writhing with life, their lines glowing bright under Merlin's skin. 

"I am Merlin. _:: I am Emrys. ::_ We are Kingsman."

More tentacles separate from Merlin's torso and reach for Harry. Seekers trace the fine bones of Harry's collar, along his neck and over his face. For all of his words of fear, Harry doesn't flinch at their touch. Merlin knows from experience just how delightful that touch can be. One seeker, emboldened by Harry's passivity, lifts up the black patch covering the empty eye socket. Harry slaps it back down and the tentacle, in retaliation, taps Harry on the tip of his nose and retreats in a state of high dudgeon. 

_"A most fearsome wound, Galahad. We are please you survived it."_

"Stop calling me that."

Merlin, not Emrys, answers, "Galahad is part of ye, Harry, just as Emrys is part of me."

Harry shakes his head, as if the gesture would be enough to deny the truth. "I am not a monster."

Merlin smiles, showing teeth. "Yes, beloved, ye are. Ye'r a monster – just like me. And once ye remember who ye are, ye'll love your monster, too." There's no need to explain just what Galahad – or Emrys – is. Once Galahad awakens, Harry's memories will return. 

More of Emrys emerge from Merlin's torso and Harry is still letting them touch him, explore him, and to Merlin's surprise – and no small delight – he can feel Harry's cock stir in arousal.

"Ye like this?"

"I don't know." Harry bites his lip and looks away from Merlin, only to be confronted by one of the larger tentacles, which wraps itself around Harry's upper arm.

"Ye do. I can feel yer cock, Harry. Ye always did like being pinned down. Ye liked giving up control for a little while. Galahad liked it, too." Merlin grinds against Harry's prick. "Ye always loved when I let Emrys fuck ye."

Harry stares at him, his eye wild, his mouth open and panting. "I – " He thrashes his head.

"Ye, what, Harry? Tell me ye don't want this." Merlin hopes that Harry doesn't do that. Sex is the easiest way to wake Harry's dormant knight-spirit. Easiest and least likely to harm Harry in the long run. But Merlin won't force himself, or Emrys, on an unwilling body, despite his own longings.

Harry finally looks at him – looks at Emrys. To Merlin's delight, he reaches out to touch Emrys, running his fingers down the largest tentacle.

"It's so soft – like velvet."

Merlin and Emrys shiver at the sensation. Harry's hand is soft, but determined. "What did ye think it would be like?"

"Don't know – slimy? Like an octopus? Or scaly like a snake?" 

_"I am not an octopus, nor am I a snake, Harry Hart."_ Emrys is annoyed at Harry's observation.

But Harry doesn't seem to notice; he keeps stroking Emrys, and Merlin can feel his knight-spirit purring – apparently all is forgiven. 

"Do ye remember anything, Harry? Do ye remember touching Emrys like this, Like it was yer own cock?"

Harry shakes his head, but then stops. "Maybe? Or maybe I just remember jerking off."

"Or maybe ye remember touching Galahad the way yer touching Emrys."

Harry pauses and there's a look in his eye that makes Merlin believe he's remembering something. "No. I don't remember that."

Merlin's almost certain that Harry's lying, that he remembers something.

"So, are you going to fuck me?" Harry lifts his hips, rocking his dick against Merlin's ass. 

"Yes, that's the plan." Merlin can't quite believe this conversation. Emrys is amused. 

"Will you use your cock?" With his free hand, Harry reached through the mass of writhing tentacles and takes hold of Merlin's penis. "You've got a nice one – it's almost as big as this." Harry holds up Emrys' largest tentacle, the one he's been stroking.

Merlin wonders just how he lost control of the situation. He gets off of Harry and stands at the edge of the bed. Harry makes a moue of disappointment. "Or maybe you want to fuck me with this." He reaches for Emrys again. "It really must be wonderful, to be able to fuck yourself. If I had something like this, I'd probably never get out of bed."

Merlin doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. Emrys tells him, _:: Laughter will make you immortal. And it is also the truth. ::_ "Ye do have something like this, Harry. Its name is Galahad and we're doing this to wake him up."

"That seems awfully cold and clinical. Where's the romance?" Harry's biting his lip and despite the single eye, he's giving Merlin a very respectable up-from-under look. Merlin remembers a time when that expression could make him hard as a rock in a matter of seconds. It still works.

But he's not going to tell Harry that, instead he consoles him. "Don't worry about the romance, we'll both have fun. And afterwards, when Galahad's awake, the two of ye can fuck me to yer heart's content."

Harry laughs and Emrys, the bastard, tries to help matters along when it reaches out and starts stroking Harry's dick. Harry gasps and arches his hips.

Merlin opens a bedside drawer and retrieving a bottle of lube. Harry spreads his thighs in abandon. 

_:: Let us… ::_

Merlin lets Emrys take the bottle from his hands and watches as the tentacles delicately open it and apply it to themselves – not all of them, of course, just several of the seekers, a few finger-sized ones, and of course, the big tentacle that Harry seems enamored by.

 _:: It's been too long since we've had this pleasure. ::_ Emrys rumbles in satisfaction. 

Merlin doesn't share that thought with Harry, who is writhing with pleasure and looking, for all the world, like a highly experienced porn star. "Fuck me."

"An invitation like that is hard to turn down."

Harry smirks at him and Merlin wonders just how a man who is missing an eye and thirty years worth of memories can behave like such a little shit.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The moment Harry reaches his climax, stuffed with a half-dozen of Emrys' tentacles, Merlin is drenched in a fine shower of blood and other bodily fluids as Galahad awakens into glorious, tentacled life. His own orgasm feels irrelevant.

Harry's eye turns white as the knight-spirit, Galahad, becomes ascendant. _"Emrys – Merlin – thank you for bringing me back."_

Merlin laughs. 

_"What is so amusing, old friend."_ A few of Galahad's seekers are caressing Merlin's head, teasing at the corner of his lips.

"Galahad, ye'r is as much of a fucking polite bastard as Harry Hart, even when ye'r covered in blood and semen."

Harry's eye turns back to its normal color and he laughs, too, which reverberates through his whole body and sends echoes through Emrys' tentacles, still buried within Harry's ass.

Emrys takes that as a signal to withdraw and Harry – and Galahad – let out a small sigh. "That was nice."

"Nice. _'Nice'._ he says, as if he hasn't been dead for the last two years."

"Just sleeping, dearest." Harry gets up and heads to the small bathroom at the back of the plane, as naked as the day he'd been born. "Let me wash up – we have a lot to discuss and this is a conversation I don't particularly want to have coated in our shared bodily fluids." Harry shuts the door behind him, as if nothing special had just happened.

Merlin has a choice. He can stand there like an idiot or he can clean himself up in the bathroom in the plane's main cabin. He opts for the later choice, but not before tapping on the door. "There's a suit and smallclothes for ye in the closet. The conversation we need to have probably requires clothing, too." Merlin grabs his own clothes and heads to the other washroom, doing his best to ignore Emrys' delighted commentary on the state of the universe.

 _:: Please, just – enough already. ::_ Merlin rarely loses patience with his knight-spirit, his _other_ , but he's close to it, now.

 _:: Our brother is back. Is this not a moment for rejoicing? ::_ Emrys is almost incandescent with joy.

_:: Rejoice all ye want, but silently. Please. ::_

Emrys has a grand time splashing around in the small sink, getting itself clean and getting almost everything else wet, before withdrawing back into Merlin's torso. Merlin stares at himself in the mirror and sees the same face he's seen for thirty-some odd years. He's just partaken of a miracle and it should have left some kind of mark on him.

Emrys ripples under his skin, rearranging tentacles into a pattern that Merlin can't see under the artificial light. 

_:: You are a living miracle, beloved. The mark is on your soul. ::_

_:: Thank ye, ye poetic berk. ::_

Emrys' laughter fades into a satisfied silence.

Merlin dresses, but leaves off the tie and shoes. When he comes out of the washroom, he finds Harry lounging in one of the chairs, a glass of scotch in hand, the decanter on the table in front of him, and looking – except for the eyepatch – exactly like he had the last time Merlin had seen him before all hell broke loose in Kentucky, polished and poised and utterly debonair.

The man he loves is back. Merlin allows himself a small moment to rejoice before heading into the cabin. 

With the ease of long familiarity, Merlin takes the glass out of Harry's hand and finishes the contents before refilling it and returning it to Harry.

"How much do ye remember?"

"Everything, up until the moment that Valentine's bullet entered my brain. In the church, when I was killing everyone, all I could hear was Galahad screaming in pain. That drove my rage." Harry's hand is trembling as he takes a sip of his scotch. "When I'd finished killing everyone, I though Galahad was dead – I couldn't feel the connection anymore. I wanted to die."

Merlin nods. "Aye - ye'r not alone. We think that the signal from the SIM cards interfered with the connection to our knight-spirits. Those who were in close proximity to the signal reported feeling something similar - that the connection was being torn apart."

"So Valentine set off his device."

"Two relatively brief bursts. Seventy seconds in total."

"How many – " Harry licks his lips, clearly nervous about the answer, "people died?"

Merlin knows his friend won't appreciate being coddled. "Worldwide, about twelve million. What has been worse is that almost seventy-five percent of the world's leaders had their heads blown off."

"What do you mean? Heads blown off?" Harry looks at Merlin like he's lost _his_ head.

"I guess I need to start at the beginning – at least what happened after we thought you'd been killed." Merlin settles in as if he's about to make a formal report.

Harry holds up a hand, forestalling him. "Before you start, can you tell me if you know what happened to Eggsy? Do you know if he survived the slaughter?" There's an intensity to Harry's voice, as if he's struggling to keep his emotions in check.

Merlin smiles. "The lad saved us all, Harry. Do you want the good stuff first or shall I give ye a full debrief?" 

Harry lets out a measured sigh. "The good stuff first, please."

"I don't know how he'd managed it, but Eggsy got into yer computer and watched what happened at the church through the feed from your glasses."

Harry interrupts, his voice harsh. "You call that 'the good stuff'? That Eggsy saw me slaughter fifty people?"

"Yer body count was closer to forty, and have a little patience, old friend."

Harry nods, clearly unhappy, but it's a signal for Merlin to continue. 

"He saw what happened and was devastated – not by what you did to those animals, who would have slaughtered ye if ye weren't so bloody skillful – but by what Valentine did to you. Chester called him in right after – with the excuse that Eggsy should have the chance to honor ye with a toast. In truth, he wanted to rub in the fact that he'd been the one to send ye to yer death. Our esteemed Chester had sold out Kingsman for a chip in his head and a promise of a world free of lower class annoyances." Merlin pauses and waits for Harry's reaction.

Harry doesn't disappoint, "Let me guess - Eggsy saw a scar on Chester's neck? Like the one of Professor Arnold?"

"Exactly. And Chester had made him an offer – join in or die. He'd poisoned Eggsy's glass of brandy. But the lad's too smart – he knew about the pen trigger. That's yer doing, I guess – "

Harry nods. "I introduced him to the delights of Fitting Room Three after the train test. And don't tell me, he distracted Chester, swapped the glasses and Chester ended up choking on his own poison."

"Ye know yer boy all too well. He used the pen to cut the chip out of Chester's neck and took it to me." Merlin glosses over much of the details of the battle at Valentine's mountain fortress, if just because Harry can watch it for himself.

"We thought all was lost, but Eggsy had the idea of using that chip to trigger the others. That's how seventy-five percent of the world's leaders – including our esteemed PM and the late and mostly unlamented Prince of Wales – lost their heads."

Harry looks both pleased and appalled. And then completely pleased. "Good boy."

Merlin chuckles. "Good, I'm not so sure about, but brilliant, definitely."

"I hope you've been taking care of that brilliance." Harry's question is freighted with meaning.

Merlin, ever the gamesman, considers drawing this out, but he decides that Harry's earned the truth. "The surviving members of the table voted - "

"Surviving? Who did we lose?"

"You and Galahad - or so we thought. Bors was lost when Rio went critical - we didn't recover Martin's body. Peter and Tristan … well, that's not a story to share at this time. And of course Gawain, when Eggsy killed Chester. Bors, Tristan and Gawain returned to the Well. We'd hoped that Galahad had, too." 

Harry nods, accepting - for now - those losses. "So, there was a vote for Eggsy?"

"Aye. It was unanimous and Eggsy was offered trip to the Well. We were expecting him come back with Galahad."

Harry puts a hand over his belly. "No, he wouldn't."

"We know that know, but when he didn't, everyone grieved again. We thought Galahad was lost forever." Merlin reaches out takes Harry's hand, squeezing it gently. "We thought we lost both of you."

"Not lost, just … misplaced." Harry rubs his thumb over Merlin's knuckles. "But you found me."

"That I did." 

"So, Eggsy went to the Well and is now a Kingsman. Just as he should be." Harry is visibly satisfied by this outcome. "Who has the pleasure of being his knight-spirit?"

"Mordred." Merlin watches Harry's face as he drops the name with singular delight.

Harry blinks and for a moment, his eye flashes white as Galahad processes the news. "That … makes sense. After all, Eggsy killed Arthur."

"I'm glad ye see it that way. Some of the knights - at least their hosts - had a bit of trouble with it. Eggsy did, too. But they've all been educated on the matter, of Mordred's true relationship to the Table and to Kingsman. Eggsy has become the knight ye always thought he'd be. And with Mordred to guide him, he's damn near invincible. Thank all the powers that be that he didn't shoot his silly dog. We might all be dead."

Harry nods, but it seems that there's something still troubling him.

Merlin waits for a response, for his friend to say something, but the silence stretches out unbearably. "Harry? What's wrong."

"Remembering isn't always a blessing, Merlin."

"What do ye mean?" When Harry doesn't answer, Merlin asks, "Are ye troubled by what happened in that gods-forsaken church?"

"No, not really. Well I am, but that's not it."

"What is?"

"Did Eggsy - " Harry finishes the scotch and reaches for the decanter. Merlin's just a bit quicker and takes it away. Harry sighs.

"Did Eggsy, what?"

"Did he tell you what I said to him after he failed the dog test and stole Chester's car?"

"No." Merlin doesn't have the faintest idea what Harry's talking about. 

"I'd been unspeakably cruel to him. I told him that everything I did was to repay Lee for his sacrifice. I broke him, Merlin. I destroyed him with my thoughtless words. I told him to stay like a fucking dog and wait for me to come back and fix things. As if _that_ could be possible after telling Eggsy that he'd been merely the means to an end. An act of expiation."

"Ye always did have a nasty tongue when ye've been disappointed." Merlin had often wondered why Eggsy - who'd failed that last test - had been waiting in Harry's home while Harry had gone to Kentucky. In the aftermath of V-Day, it hadn't seemed that important to ask and afterwards, it had become an irrelevant curiosity. "But I don't think ye've done quite the damage ye think ye have."

"How can you know that? If Eggsy hasn't said anything to you… "

"I don't think he has to. In fact, I'm pretty certain that Eggsy still thinks the sun rises and sets out of yer arse. Eggsy's been living in yer house for the last two years and hasn't changed a damn thing, including that wee stuffed pest of a dog in the downstairs loo. Pretty certain that he looks at it as a shrine to your sacred memory."

Harry's not so willing to give in. The man always had a penchant for the dramatic. "Perhaps. Did you tell him that I was alive? That you were going to bring me home?"

Merlin shakes his head. "No one knows. I may have abused my authority on this score."

"As Quartermaster? I never thought I'd live long enough to see that." Harry winces. "Sorry, that was a bad joke."

"It was, but ye'r forgiven. And no, I didn't abuse my authority as Quartermaster, but as Arthur."

"You? You actually let them make you Arthur?"

Merlin sighs, grabs Harry's glass and pours himself a dram. "I didn't have much choice. And besides, it's temporary. Even though it's been two years, our ranks are still too thin to take an experienced knight out of the field and put him behind a desk for most of the time. I agreed to a single five-year term and the plan is to have the position rotate amongst the senior knights for another ten years after that before holding an election from the entire Table. Fifteen years to give Eggsy and Roxy a chance for some seasoning. There's also been talk of making the leadership a rotating position permanently - with single decade terms, rather than keeping the position as something reserved for an agent who doesn't want fieldwork anymore."

Harry agrees. "I always thought it had been a mistake to let Chester ossify like he had. If he hadn't stayed out of the field for twenty some-odd years, Gawain wouldn't have fallen asleep at the wheel and we'd have known what Chester had been up to." 

"But of course, now that ye'r back …" Merlin hates to do this to Harry, but it's going to have to happen.

"Oh, hell, no. Merlin - you can't expect me to give everything up."

Merlin doesn't pull his punches. "Harry, ye need to face reality. Ye'r missing an eye. Ye've spent the last two years recovering from a traumatic brain injury and hiding away in a padded cell, drawing butterflies. Ye'r not going to be ready for field duty for a long time, if ever. And I can't keep doing both jobs. There's too much power concentrated in me."

"You won't abuse it."

"Thank ye for the vote of confidence, but it's still not right. Emrys has links to every other active knight-spirit - and being Arthur, too - it's a bad precedent. There's a reason why 'Arthur' is only a title, that the holder keeps the knight-spirit he or she had been invested with. There's a reason why Excalibur remains in the stone."

Harry stares at the empty glass and Merlin gives in, filling it with just two fingers of scotch. Harry gives him a grateful smile and continues to raise his objections to Merlin's very reasonable plan. "A desk job? Galahad will kill me if we're to be sent out to pasture." Harry pats his torso, as if to reassure his knight-spirit. "I'll become like Chester, or worse."

Merlin shares something with Harry. "Did ye know that Chester had been the only Arthur who never went on a mission after his promotion? I've been spending a lot of time with the old records, and his tenure is a complete outlier. He basically retired in place, which should never have been allowed to happened."

"So, if Galahad and I do take over for you and Emrys, I won't be tied to a desk forever?"

"No, not at all. Of course, yer assignments will be based on your abilities - like any Kingsman's is. Which means that ye'll need some retraining, adjustments will be made, and of course, as Arthur, ye won't be going on long-term solo missions. In fact, ye won't be going solo at all."

Harry opens his mouth and Merlin forestalls the expected argument. "Even if ye aren't Arthur, ye'r not going out solo ever again. Ye got one eye missing, yer field of vision is crap. I didn't go to Kentucky to rescue ye just to have ye killed from yer blind side."

Having laid down the rules Merlin finally allows Harry to get in another objection. "Galahad and I don't work well with others."

"Ye'll learn. Besides, it's not like I'll have ye rotating through with other knights. Ye'll get a partner who'll appreciate ye, who'll stay by yer side through thick and thin. Ye'll get a partner who's finest quality is his steadfast loyalty - to ye."

Harry stares at him and Merlin can see him making the connection. "Eggsy? Mordred?"

"Aye."

The tension that's bracketed Harry's mouth eases into a smile, before other concerns are remembered. "If you think he'll have the job, after what I'd said to him."

"The lad will have your apologies and then he will give ye his oath. Of that I'm certain." Merlin gets up and retrieves a tablet from the workstation. It takes little effort to connect to the Kingsman servers and call up the video of Eggsy's final meeting with Chester.

He hands it to Harry with the command, "Watch. Listen."

Merlin's viewed Eggsy's confrontation with Chester so many times that he can recite the words as if it's his favorite movie.

Chester, in full prick mode, is telling Eggsy, _"… history will see Valentine as the man who saved humanity from extinction."_

But Eggsy's not having any of it, _"And he gets to pick and choose who gets culled, does he? All his rich mates, they get to live and anyone he thinks is worth saving, he's keeping them safe whether they agree with him or not."_

Chester's making a half-hearted effort to recruit Eggsy to his cause, _"And you, Eggsy. In Harry's honor, I am inviting you, to be part of a new world. It's time to make your decision."_

Merlin reads Harry's face as Harry's watching the video; there's so much pride for his protege, there's affection bordering on love. Merlin knows those feelings all too well. Eggsy has a way of inspiring them.

When Harry gets to the climax of the scene, where Eggsy declares, _"I'd rather be with Harry, thanks"_ , Harry's shaking with unsurpressable emotion.

"I don't think there's should be any question about Eggsy forgiving ye for yer ill-spoken words. Or about how he feels about ye."

Harry nods, finally accepting the truth of the matter. He also replays the video three more times. 

Merlin checks in with the pilot, then tells Harry, "We're still another five hours from home. I'm going to get some sleep - ye should do the same."

Harry hands him back the tablet. "Perhaps. You've given me a lot to think about."

Merlin puts away the tablet and fetches blankets for them. Of course, they could go back to the bedroom, but the mess they'd left on the sheets makes the idea rather unappealing. As he hands Harry the blanket, he leans over and does something he hasn't done in a very long time. He kisses Harry, softly, gently, rubbing his cheek against Harry's, nuzzling him. "I've missed ye, love. It's good to have ye back."

Harry kisses him just as sweetly. "I'm glad to be back, dearest. I'm just so sorry for all the pain my absence as caused."

"It's all right. It's the price we pay for being monsters."

"Not just monsters, Merlin. We're human, too."

Merlin takes his seat again, tosses the blanket over his legs and sets the lighting controls to dim. As the cabin falls into semi-darkness, he undoes a few of the lower buttons on his shirt and one of Emrys' seekers reaches out for Harry. Without a word, Harry undoes his own shirt buttons and one of Galahad's seekers comes out. The two knight-spirits twine around each other as Harry reaches for Merlin's hand. 

For the first time in two years, Merlin easily falls asleep.

__

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Confused? I'm not surprised. As I said in the beginning, this started out as smut but quickly got plotty. The best way to think of the Knight-Spirits are as the unbonded Trill from ST: DS9, except that when a human Kingsman agent (host) dies, the incorporeal Knight-Spirit returns to The Well and waits for a new agent to bond with. This is already a verse in my head and other stories are percolating, because I've left more plotholes here than can be found in Blackburn, Lancastershire.
> 
> Sorry?
> 
> Feel free to come scream at my on Tumblr - you can find me here: [](http://elrhiarhodan.tumblr.com)[](http://elrhiarhodan.tumblr.com)**elrhiarhodan**


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